


Home

by sharedwithyou



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angstangstangst, Depressing, F/M, Sorry Not Sorry, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 14:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: "Nothing wrong with being alone on Thanksgiving. You know, so you can enjoy, the .... the uh...""Solitude?""Uhm. Ok. Yes. Bye now."You hailed a taxi with a straight face, while trying not to bust a gut. Still, it brought up a sound point.What does home mean to you?





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> sorry I've been gone so long lovelies!! my wrists aren't doing great and I lost internet for a while, and traveled to the middle of nowhere for a bit too. This was supposed to be for Thanksgiving but like I said, middle of nowhere = no posting.
> 
> I hope you all had a lovely holiday and that you are all doing well. 
> 
> This fic is very angsty. Depressing. Not Dark, just sad with no happy ending. You've been warned
> 
> XOXO Bucky

"Are you going home for the holidays?"

"Home?"

"Yeah, like, to see your family." Your over-friendly coworker nudged you as you tried to duck down the hall. So much for trying to leave early surreptitiously.  


"I was on my way home, yes."

"Right, to see your parents."

"They're dead."

"Oh." You hid a smile as he fumbled over his words. Unfortunately the awkwardness was not enough to shut him up.

"Well, you have siblings right?"

"No."

"How about your boyf- oh." He'd long assumed you were single, since you never checked your phone and giggled during work hours, or snuck off to the bathroom to send a cute selfie.  


Now that he thought about it, you were pretty much a loner. He regretted starting this conversation.

"Ok then. I'm off. See you next Tuesday."

"We work on Monday remember?!"

"...Yes." You tried not to laugh as he got up to open the door for you, feeling bad for making you announce you'd be by yourself this holiday.

"Nothing wrong with being alone on Thanksgiving. You know, so you can enjoy, the .... the uh..."

"Solitude?"

"Uhm. Ok. Yes. Bye now."

You hailed a taxi with a straight face, while trying not to bust a gut. Still, it brought up a sound point.

What does home mean to you?

The doorbell jolted you awake. You checked your phone- 9:30PM? You'd fallen asleep at 9?!

Muttering to yourself, you stumbled to the door, half-checking your reflection in the hallway mirror. Slightly bloodshot eyes, oh boy. Still, your hair wasn't a rat's nest so that was something.  


"How come you never let me give you a key?" Were the first words out of your mouth as the handsome brunette lifted you in the air with one arm and dragged 3 suitcases into the apartment with another.  


"Because then I wouldn't get to see your make-up smudged, half-awake from an unnecessary nap face, now, would I?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

So he did, for a full 5 minutes as he walked the two of you around the apartment so he could put things away with one hand, the other staying around your waist.

Maybe some women would find that insulting or unromantic; but you liked it just fine.

Because it would end the very same way it did every time he came back, every night he spent at home.

With the TV blaring in the background, draped over the couch, asleep with your head on his chest, as you listened to his heartbeat.

Sometimes your neck would cramp, or he'd be snoring too loud, so you'd tiptoe off to bed and perhaps find a pair of earplugs.

Other times you would half-pull, half-drag his fine behind into bed to join you.

But before that, it would be you, him, and a couch cushion. Maybe late evening news or a talk show in the background. If your head was on his chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing:

You were home.

"Chocolate chip pancakes?"

You didn't know how he could come home from an international flight and be up at 6 the next day making breakfast.

Not that he'd tell you where he was going. Still, you could tell by which duty-free gifts he got you from the airports.

"With whipped cream please."

"Anything for you." His smile could melt icebergs. They were probably the cause of global warming in fact.

"With whipped cream but in 3 hours." 7:30 AM did not count as sleeping in.

"Come on, love. Join me. Tell me how the past week flew by so fast."

"Probably because you went through so many time zones." The words came out meaner than you meant. He shook it off though.

"I know I said I wouldn't be working so much this month. I'm sorry."

"Saving lives doesn't take a holiday, I guess."

"It really should, though." He placed the steaming hot plate on the nightstand and hopped onto bed next to you, tugging the blanket out from under you so he could wiggle closer. "I could use 2 days of world peace."

"Just 2?"

"I'm not greedy."

"One for me and one for you?"

Your voice grew softer as you silently forgave him. He was so warm next to you, you couldn't help drifting off, barely feeling his lips as the pressed against your forehead.

"I'd give them both to you, (y/n)."

Ok, Clint. Ok.

"Next in line, please."

You tried not to scowl at the woman in front of you who was buying the entire grocery store. You'd just wanted to grab a frozen entree and rush home to feel sorry for yourself some more. You'd woken up to an apology note that something had come up. You'd forgotten it was Thanksgiving until you saw the whole town stuffed inside the grocery store grabbing last minute cranberry sauce. But you'd found a parking space for once and that seemed kismet enough for you to brave the crowd and grab a Lean Cuisine.

"Sorry to make you wait." The woman in front of you gave you an apologetic smile, which you appreciated.

"Nah. It's Thanksgiving after all."

"I didn't even think I was going to celebrate it. But last minute my husband came home and the kids are just so excited to see him."

"That's...nice." You never understood why strangers wanted small talk.

"He's usually so busy with work overseas. And even when he does come home, he seems distant."

"Right." You eyed the rubber stick separating your purchases as it inched closer and closer to the edge.

"Of course I understand it's the nature of the job. But you know, I almost started getting paranoid-"

The cashier interrupted politely with the total, and you uttered a silent prayer of thanks that this one-sided conversation was over.

"Here's my card - oops!"

You tried not to sigh as you bent over to help the lady scoop up the contents of her huge wallet.

"That's them." You nodded at her as you carefully picked up the photo so it wouldn't bend.

"They're lovely." You said politely as you handed it over.

"They take just after their father. Look, they have his eyes."

You almost rolled your own as you gave the picture an obligatory glance.

You really, really, wished you hadn't.

"That's..."

"My husband." She smiled proudly until she took in your shocked gaze. She inwardly kicked herself- of course people would recognize him! It's not like he wore a mask or anything! And he'd reminded her over and over to be careful-

"He looks just like my uncle."

"Oh." She let out a sigh of relief. If only she knew that not only you recognized the one and only Hawkeye... you knew him on a whole other level. "Well I should hurry. He'll be done setting the table and putting out the decorations-"

"Your total, ma'am." The cashier in her infinite patience was still waiting with her hand outstretched for payment.

"Here you are." 30 seconds later, the whole affair was over. In more ways than one, in fact.

Unfortunately she had some friendly last words for you. 

"Traffic's crazy out there. Well, drive home safely."

There was that damn word again.

Home.

This time when the doorbell rang it woke you from a sick kind of reverie.

He'd never taken a copy of your keys; probably because he was afraid he'd get them mixed up with his house set.

The lease was in your name; was that to keep his identity safe or to keep his secret safe?

The days he was gone; which ones were for work and which ones were for pleasure?

And how much pleasure was there?

He'd never seemed distant from you; was it that his wife was more perceptive than you?

Were you supposed to be a one-time thing that evolved into a bigger mistake?

Did he love you more than her?

Was he staying with her out of obligation for the children?

Was he staying with you out of misplaced guilt?

That he'd accidentally built a life with you that he couldn't walk away from? Just as he couldn't walk away from the one with his family?

You didn't want to open the door. His wife had gotten a can of pumpkin puree and somehow you had gotten a can of worms.

But there he stood at the threshold with a small smile and a pie, so you let him in, dodging away from his hug to ask him,

"Did your wife make this?"

You stared aimlessly at the wall now, barely hearing the laughter from the TV as one of the Jimmy's introduced a celebrity to a silly game.

The words bleeding together in your mind as you played the once again one-sided conversation in your mind.

Something about wanting to tell you but never finding the right time. Something about being in love with you, but not knowing how to choose. Something about family changing everything, about things being too complicated; but there were too many excuses mixed with begging for forgiveness that made your mind whirl until his voice was too hard to hear.

Above the haze, one thing rises.

"I'll pay off the rest of the lease. I... lived here too. And I had planned...

I'll make sure you don't lose your home."

And you'd wanted to throw a vase at a face, to scream til you were hoarse, to 

make him feel even a fraction of how broken you felt.

Home, Clint? 

Home was with you.

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY LOVELIES!!
> 
> Leave a comment if you like!  
> Random Ramblings:
> 
> Quick Poll 1: which line hit you right in the gut?
> 
> for me it was probably the can of pumpkin puree vs can of worms
> 
> Ugh why did I do this!! I try not to involve lovely in infidelity but if the muse possesses me then I oblige. 
> 
> Quick Poll 2:  
> What is home for you?
> 
> Let me know how you've all been. I'm alive! I'm surviving! And that's good enough for now hehe. I'll try to write another soon!
> 
> XOXO Bucky


End file.
